When Voldemort Stole Pink Rabbit
by TeeBee
Summary: Harry wakes up and finds he's not at home in his bed, he's on the doorstep of number four, Privet Drive ...
1. Yellow Hair and Tomato Faces

When Voldemort Stole Pink Rabbit

He woke up, but didn't open his eyes. He wanted to go back to sleep. He still felt tired.

He was cold. Really cold. Maybe Mummy had left the window open.

His hand snaked across the crib mattress, reaching for his favorite floppy, pink stuffed rabbit. But Bunny wasn't there.

And he wasn't in his crib. The surface underneath his palm was too cold and scratchy to be his crib.

Harry opened his eyes, wanting to see Mummy's face. But she wasn't there. Mummy was always there when he woke up.

No, all he could see was a wide, gray sky, stretching out for miles and miles above him.

Harry stood, his knees trembling, and a soft purple blanket fell off him. There was also a letter, but he couldn't read the strange marks on the paper. Where were Mummy and Daddy?

And then he remembered. Mummy waking him up, wet running down her face. The bad man with the white skin, pointing a wand at Mummy. More wet. Mummy falling down. Harry crawling to her and playing with a few strands of red, but Mummy didn't move. The bad man pointing the wand at Harry. The man going away. The changing table falling on him.

Harry looked around. He didn't know where he was. Everything was cold and gray. Had the bad man hurt Mummy? And where was Daddy?

He heard a noise and turned around, the steps cool to his bare feet. A tall woman with yellow for hair was standing behind him, her hand over her mouth.

"Mummy?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her. "Mummy?"

The woman scooped him up, along with the blanket and the letter. She brought him into the house, which was nice and warm after being outside.

"Vernon!" she screeched up the stairs, setting him back on his feet. Harry trembled on his unsteady legs and fell down. The carpet was hard a rough. Who was Vernon?

A very big, very tall man came down the stairs, making a loud noise. Harry put his hands over his ears.

"What is it?"

"I found him outside, on the front steps …"

"Who is it?"

"It … it looks like … like _him_."

"You mean _her_ …"

"That's right, her husband."

Harry didn't know what they were talking about. All he knew was that the skinny lady and the scary man didn't know where Mummy and Daddy were.

"I want Mummy an' Daddy," he whispered, standing up again, his eyes shut tight and his hands clamped over his ears.

"I want Mummy an' Daddy," he said, a little bit louder. He continued the chant, each time his voice getting louder and louder, until he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I want Mummy an' Daddy! I want Mummy an' Daddy! I wa-"

His hands were pulled out of his ears, his arms held tightly to his body in a very firm grip. He squirmed, but the big hands wouldn't let go.

"Look at me," came the scary man's voice. Harry opened his eyes. The man had a very big, red face from up close. He looked like a tomato.

"You are going to shut up now," said the man. "All right?"

Harry nodded.

"Oooooh, look who woke up!" cooed the woman with yellow on her head, hurrying up the stairs and picking up a boy Harry's own age who also had yellow on his head. "Mummy's got you …"

"Mummy?"

"Don't _you_ start again," the scary man said, giving him a little shake. "She _is not _your Mummy."

"I'll make us some breakfast," the woman said, coming back down the stairs, the boy in her arms. "You'll get Duddy dressed for me?" she added, handing Duddy out to the scary man, who let go of Harry and reached out to take the boy. "And find something for _him_ to wear as well. Can't have him run around in that pajama set, can we?"

"But what are we going to _do_?"

"We'll talk later," she answered. Harry noticed she picked the letter up off the floor and took it with her into another room.

"Suppose I've got to get you two dressed," the man grunted. He shifted Duddy in his arms and started to climb the stairs.

Harry lifted his arms into the air, but the man ignored him. "Up?" he asked.

"You can walk it," the man replied.

"Up!" insisted Harry.

"Walk," grunted the man.

"UP!" Harry shrieked.

The man leaned over and put his face into Harry's. "_Walk_," he snarled in a dangerously low voice.

Harry tottered over to the stairs and began to crawl up them – painfully slowly.

Finally, they reached Duddy's room. The scary man picked out an outfit for Duddy, then looked through the closets one more time.

"I don't think there's anything in here that'll fit you … oh wait, here's something …"

He pulled out a T-shirt with a doggy on the front. Harry clapped his hand, delighted.

"Pa'foot! Pa'foot!"

"What?"

Harry came closer to the shirt and poked the doggie's nose. Why wouldn't it move?

"Pa'foot move _now_!" he commanded. "Move!"

"Shut up and put it on," was the scary man's reply. He pulled Harry's pajama shirt off. He liked that shirt. It had snitches on it.

The man stuffed Harry's head and arms through the holes. The shirt was big, but not too big. Nice and roomy.

The man found a pair of pants and put them on as well. The he and Duddy and the man went back down the stairs and into a big yellow room. The lady was at a stove, stirring something in a pot.

"Sit down, all of you," she said, pointing to a table with four chairs. The man put Duddy into what Mummy called "a big boy chair."

"Bi-boy-tair?" he asked the lady. Mummy had never let him sit on the Mummy-and-Daddy chairs before.

"We don't have an extra one, Harry, so you'll have to make do with this," the woman said, plopping a big book onto one of the Mummy-and-Daddy chairs.

"Harry!" the scary man said. Harry turned. "So he is … _her_ son!"

The woman nodded, spooning oatmeal onto Duddy's plate.

"And just how do you know this?"

"The letter," she said simply, dropping the paper on the table.

The scary man read the note out loud. Harry didn't understand very much of it. He concentrated on separating the burnt parts of his oatmeal from the rest of it. The lady wasn't very good at making food, not like Daddy.

__

_"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I am deeply sorry to inform you of the passing of your sister and her husband. They were murdered. The thing is still a great mystery; I cannot fully explain it here. Suffice to say that the murderer tried and failed to kill their son, Harry._

__

_"This is where your help is needed. We have decided to award you custody of Harry James Potter. When he is older, other arrangements might be made, but for now we would like you to raise him. I am sure you will all be very happy together. Albus Dumbledore. PS: His birthday is July 31. I will be sending along a pair of socks_."

"What rubbish," the man snapped, tossing down the letter. "There wasn't anything else with it?"

"That – that was it," said the woman, but Harry noticed she was patting her apron pocket almost protectively.

"Well, he can't stay here!"

"Why not? I thought that –"

"He's – he's one of _them_, Petunia! There's no telling what he's capable of!"

"He's fifteen months old! Please, Vernon, just … what harm could he be?"

They continued arguing, but Harry blocked them out. He heard his name a few times and knew they were talking about him.

Finally, the woman bent over him and put out her hand. "Would you like to stay with us, Harry?"

He glanced at the scary man and was about to say no, but then he saw a change in her eyes. They locked … they looked like Mummy's eyes for a moment …

"Mummy?"

"No." She shook her head. "Aunt Petunia."

"Aunt Tuna?"

"No – _Pet_unia."

"Aunt Pet?"

"That's right. Why don't you come upstairs with me now?"

He reached out and took her hand and as he did so, he felt a warmth spread through his entire body, like when Daddy lit a fire and he and Mummy and Daddy all sat in front of it, safe and cozy and warm.

He lay that night on a small mattress in Duddy's bedroom, listening to him snore.

He wanted his room back, with his books and his toys. And he wanted Mummy's face there in the morning when he woke up, shining above him, but he knew it wouldn't be there.

He rolled over and tried to fall asleep without his pink Bunny.

--------------------------------

A/N: I know Harry acts a lot older than fifteen months, but ... wizard kids develope faster, okay? And this story takes place as if the missing 24 hours never happened. Voldemort's attack was on the same night he was left on the doorstep. This is a one-shot, tell me what you think! Please review! I'm not going to update this again (most likely) so thanks in advance to everyone who is going to (ahem, had better) review! Really, please review, it means a lot to me.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling, who is an amazing and talented writer.


	2. The Fireflies Are Smiling

Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter Universe belongs to me.

A/N: All right, I know I said I wouldn't touch this again, but I was rereading it and got to the part in the last chapter about the socks and I just had to put this in. Thank you so so so much to everyone who reviewed.

* * *

The Fireflies Are Smiling

Harry had lived with Aunt Pet, Ucle Vernie, and Duddy for a long long long time.

Nine months, in fact, but he didn't know that.

And he couldn't feel the warm anymore. And he couldn't call them Aunt Pet or Ucle Vernie or Duddy.

Harry didn't know why. He had only wanted to make a fire like Daddy did. With one stick giving fire to the other sticks. Only he didn't have a Mummy and Daddy stick. So he waved his hand instead. And _fire_ had come out of it. Real fire. It was hot.

Maybe Ucle Vernie didn't like fire.

He yelled at Harry. He put Harry in the dark. For a long time. Almost as long as Harry hadn't seen Mummy and Daddy. Then Harry said "Ucle Vernie" and ucle hurt his hand.

Now they were: Aunt, Cousin, and U_n_cle, with the "ennnn" sound very clear.

Aunt wasn't nice anymore like she was at first. And not Cousin neither. And not Uncle.

Harry was afraid of Uncle. Uncle could hurt him. He didn't, but Harry knew he could.

Uncle was very strong.

Harry wasn't scared of The Dark anymore. When Uncle first put him in The Dark he had shaked and shaked and cried very loudly. But now he was a big boy. He spent a lot of time in The Dark, so it wasn't scary anymore. Only cold.

Harry never felt warm now. Not ever.

Cousin was a big meanie. Cousin could hurt Harry, and he did. Only Harry wasn't afraid of him. Cousin couldn't really hurt him, not if Harry pretended he couldn't and said it in his mind over and over and over.

Uncle didn't like when Harry talked, so Harry didn't. His school Mummy, Miss Webber, said Harry could tell her anything he liked. He talked to Miss Webber. She was nice.

But Miss Webber was only his school Mummy. Harry wondered when Mummy and Daddy were going to come take him away. Maybe they had to get better after the bad man hurt them. Maybe they were all better now and would come take him home tomorrow.

Tomorrow came.

Harry waited for Aunt to open up The Dark. When she did, he went fast up the stairs to the potty, but it was too late and there was already smelly water by his underpants. Aunt didn't like that. She sprayed cold water on him and gave him new pants. Harry quickly pulled on the new pants and then went down the stairs with Aunt. Aunt put him in Cousin's high chair and pulled the strap very tight. Only Mummy called them "big boy chairs", not Aunt. Now they were high chairs.

Aunt made breakfast. Harry waited for Cousin to wake up so Aunt would take him out of the high chair. Aunt did that every day. Harry would always sit in the high chair with the strap done tight until Cousin came down and wanted to eat. Then he would sit in a big chair.

Uncle came down the stairs and opened the paper.

"Dudley awake yet?" Uncle said. 'Dudley' meant Cousin.

"He's got a little cold," said Aunt. "I'll take him some breakfast as soon as I'm done down here."

That meant Cousin wouldn't come to breakfast. That meant that Harry wouldn't have to sit in a big person chair, like he usually did. When Harry sat in his big person chair he sometimes fell off. Today was special.

Harry pushed at the buckle on the strap. The strap was really starting to hurt.

Aunt saw him pushing. She did a frown, but made the strap feel better. "But if you wiggle around," she said in her Angry voice, "that's being tightened back up."

Harry knew Aunt meant it. He nodded _Yes._

Aunt put two breakfast plates on the table, one for Harry and one for Uncle. Uncle had hot cereal. Harry did too, only his was cold.

On the day Miss Webber called Sunday, when there wasn't any school, Aunt made a biiiiig bowl of hot cereal, special for Harry. She put it in the Cold Box and gave Harry a little of it every morning. Except when Harry got to eat it, it was very cold and lumpy.

_And very yucky_, he decided once he took a bite.

The Ding-Dong rang and Uncle went to open the door. Harry watched as Uncle picked up a package that had been sitting outside.

Aunt saw it too. "What is it, Vernon? Another package for Dudley?" 'Vernon' meant Uncle.

"No …" Uncle said. "It's for … it's for _him_."

'Him' meant Harry.

"But it couldn't possibly – "

Aunt and Uncle talked loudly while Harry finished his cereal. Harry didn't like their loud voices, but they weren't yelling at him, so that was okay. When he finished, Harry waited for Aunt to take him out.

He waited a long time.

Then, Aunt took him out of the high chair and put him on the floor. "Here," she said, giving him the package.

It was all wrapped in paper, so Harry tore it off. And inside – there were socks.

Harry liked the socks. He thought they were pretty. There were six all together, two red, two blue, and two a pretty yellow color.

Harry looked up at Aunt. Was it okay if he smiled? Aunt's face was ugly – no, he shouldn't smile.

"My socks?"

"Of course they're your socks," Aunt said in her Get-Into-the-Car-Right-Now voice. "Why else would we give them to you? Now take them out of here right this instant."

Harry picked up all the socks and ran into the living room. He sat on the floor and pulled one blue and one yellow sock over his bare feet.

The socks were fuzzy and warm inside, almost like the Bunny toy Harry remembered. It was pink. He didn't have any toys now.

_Maybe the socks can be my toys_, Harry thought happily when he realized his feet weren't cold anymore. _Now I can have toys too_!

Harry grabbed the other socks and took them into The Dark. He closed the door …

The yellow sock on his foot and the one he was carrying were lighting up! They made The Dark pretty, and it wasn't so dark anymore.

Harry felt like giggling, but he knew Aunt and Uncle would hear him and they wouldn't like it. So he smiled.

_Aunt and Uncle can't see me in here. I'm hiding from them, just like Mummy and Daddy are hiding from me._

The thought of hiding made Harry smile more. He switched the yellow sock on his foot for a red one, then swung the yellow socks in wild circles above his head ...

_They look like fireflies ..._

* * *

A/N again: That's all for now! I might work on another chapter, but I'm not making any promises! Please review! 


	3. Billy and Betty One of a Kind

Disclaimer: Nothing in Harry Potter's universe belongs to me; it all belongs to JK Rowling.

_Billy and Betty – One of a Kind_

The fireflies were not very smart. That's why Harry had to hide them from Aunt and Uncle – they weren't smart enough to hide on their own. They didn't know the difference between happy and sad, so they were always happy, even when Harry wasn't. Even when Aunt yelled at Harry all day long, the fireflies always smiled and made him feel happy. Their pretty, glowing light always made _him _feel warm, even if he wasn't wearing them.

Their names were Billy and Betty. They were mummy and daddy fireflies who were looking for their baby. Harry _thought_ it was a boy baby, but he wasn't sure – it was very hard to understand the way they talked.

Billy and Betty didn't like that they had to stay in The Dark all the time. They said it was small inside.

Harry told them that The Dark was the best place in the whole entire house! It was all for them – just for the three of them. Aunt and Uncle couldn't stop him from talking to Billy and Betty in there.

Aunt and Uncle really didn't like it when he talked to things. They didn't like it when he talked to the milk bottle, or to his spoon, or to them.

There was nothing very interesting to do at home. All Harry did all day was SIT. When Aunt took him out of The Dark in the morning, he sat in the high chair. When Cousin wanted breakfast, Harry had to go sit on a chair. Then he had to sit on the potty. When he was done, he had to sit in the stroller. When Cousin went out for his walk, Harry had to sit in the playpen. And when Cousin wanted to nap, Harry had to sit in The Dark.

Well, he was _supposed_ to, anyway.

But Harry wanted to play with Billy and Betty. So he did. HARRY made the rules in The Dark, not Aunt or Uncle.

Billy and Betty hated sitting. They always fluttered around his head, making little buzzing noises. And they always smiled.

Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin smiled too, only never to Harry, like the fireflies did.

Harry tried to help the fireflies look for their baby. He told them that maybe some other nice fireflies had found their baby and were feeding it and watching it for them. This didn't make Billy and Betty feel better, so they kept looking.

* * *

Soon, there was COLD, WHITE, WET, FLUFF outside! It came from the sky, like rain, but Cousin _played_ in it! 

His school Mummy said it was called _snow_.

The snow looked like it was fun. Harry wanted to play with it like Cousin did. He asked Aunt. A lot. But all the time she sayd NO – very loud.

But Harry, Billy, and Betty played in the snow inside The Dark.

One day, Aunt didn't say anything when Harry asked her to play with the snow. Her lips got skinny and her face got whiter than the milk in Cousin's bottles. Then she said, "Okay."

Harry was so happy! He looked at Aunt to see if it was good to laugh, and it was! So he did.

"Yes, yes, enough of all that," Aunt said. "Come on, outside now!"

Harry went out happily. It was very very very cold. Aunt made a little _huffy_ sound and closed the door.

Cousin was playing with the snow! He was making balls and throwing them at a rock. Harry ran to Cousin.

"Me do! Me do!"

Cousin pushed Harry, and Harry fell back.

Harry stood up quickly. The snow was _cold _and _wet _and it was _sticking _to him. He shivered.

Cousin was wearing a hat, and a coat, and a scarf, and mittens, and boots. Harry wasn't. He was wearing his shirt. And pants and socks. And underwear that was too big and fell down a lot.

"Siwy Hawy," Cousin said in a mean voice. He threw snow at Harry. Harry shivered more. "Hawy need coat!"

Harry thought of his coat: it smelled like potatoes and was gray and ugly. It was missing two buttons. He didn't want to put it on.

Cousin grinned. "I go in. Mummy!" he yelled.

Aunt came outside, rubbing her arms a little. "You want to come inside, Duddy?"

Cousin nodded. "I go _in_!"

Aunt picked Cousin up and carried him to the house. Harry ran after her. His feet were very cold.

But she didn't let him go in the house. "_You_ can stay out here for awhile," she said. "You just park your bottom and _sit_." And then she closed the door. It made a snapping sound.

So Harry sat. _Again_. But this time, he was outside and it was cold. The socks he was wearing were just plain socks, not the warm, fuzzy socks that had come in the box.

Harry's fingers were stiff and red. He blowed on them, but it didn't help. So he put his hands in between his knees and rocked back and forth.

When Aunt took him into the house, it was naptime for Harry. If it wasn't sitting-time, it was always naptime. So Harry lay down in The Dark. He put the blue socks on his feet, the red socks on his hands, swung the fireflies above his head, and told Billy and Betty about his adventure in the snow.

* * *

Snow came four times after that (Harry now knew his numbers very good), but Aunt never let him go out again. Then it got hot outside. Now Harry was also very good at keeping the morning-time smelly wet inside his body. He just squeezed and squeezed while he sat in The Dark, waiting for Aunt to let him out. 

Whenever Miss Webber took them to the playground for recess, Harry played with the butterflies and the flowers. There were bees too – Cousin was afraid of them, but Harry liked them. They were black and yellow – yellow like Billy and Betty.

Harry told Miss Webber all about the fireflies. He asked her if she knew where their baby was, but she said she didn't. Miss Webber sayd that it was good to talk to socks. She sayd she talked to a little towel when she was as tiny as Harry.

Harry laughed. Big people were so silly sometimes. Towels couldn't _talk_. And he didn't talk to _towels_, he talked to Billy and Betty.

* * *

It got even hotter outside. 

Harry had lived with Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin for one year and nine months, but _he _didn't know that.

Harry sat in the stroller near the front door while Cousin ate his lunch in the high chair. Harry was eating lunch too – he had a lot of food! He had a banana and a cup of water!

Harry's tummy made a growling noise that sounded like Uncle when he slept. He didn't smile, but he felt like laughing. It was a funny noise!

There was another sound on the outside. "Aunt!" Harry called.

The ding-dong rang.

"Coming … coming …" Aunt said softly. She opened the door and there was a big brown box on the mat.

"For me!" Cousin yelled. "For me!"

Aunt looked at the writing, and then her face got white like milk. "What did You do now?" she said in her Angry voice.

'You' meant 'Harry'. So did 'Boy', 'That One', and 'Him'.

Harry had a lot of nicknames.

"I did not do anything!" Harry said. "For me?"

"For me!"

"No …You," Aunt said. Harry looked up at her. The yellow of her hair wasn't making the white of her face very pretty. "Get out of there, right this instant!"

Harry tried to get out, but the strap was on top of him!

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" yelled Aunt. She pulled the strap off, but spilled Harry's water. Aunt grabbed Harry's arm and took him to The Dark.

"Now sit there and _behave_," she said in her Angry voice, before closing the door.

Cousin watched a lot of TV that day. Harry knew because he and Billy and Betty listened through the door of The Dark.

When Uncle got home from work, Harry heard him and Aunt yelling a lot. Cousin started crying. Soon, Aunt took him out and put him on a big chair by the table. Everyone ate dinner. After dinner was over, Uncle gave him the box!

Harry opened the box very happily. Billy and Betty and his socks had come in a box! Maybe there was something in this box for him too!

Harry ripped through some paper … and some more … and some more … but there was nothing in the box. It was empty.

"You see, Boy?" Uncle said. "No one sent you a thing for your birthday. No one cares." Then Uncle grabbed his arm – the same one Aunt had grabbed before – and took him to The Dark.

As Harry and Uncle passed through the living room, Harry saw a big fire burning brightly. _No one makes fires in summer_, he thought. He wondered why Aunt and Uncle had. He thought he saw something blue in the middle of the fire.

But he knew Aunt didn't like questions.

From that summer on, every year on Harry Potter's birthday, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive lit a bonfire in the fireplace – in "honor" of the special occasion.


	4. The Littlest Philosopher

Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter universe belongs to me.

A/N: Nothing else to say, is there? When I was writing this, I felt Harry's "My life is so tragic" thing was getting kinda old, but I'm expecting for there to be a bit more growth in the next chapter, and with luck we'll see Harry growing into the boy who recieved his Hogwarts letter in canon.

Chapter Four: The Littlest Philosopher

Harry Potter had lived with Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin for three years. But he didn't know that.

He didn't go to school with Miss Webber anymore. Now his teacher was Miss Allison. She was pretty. Harry wanted to marry her.

Except she was married to somebody else. He came to school every Friday and sang songs with a funny guitar.

Miss Allison didn't like him to talk. She always sayd, "In a minute" when Harry wanted to tell her about Billy and Betty.

Cousin had friends at school. He had a lot of friends. Piers and Dennis. They didn't like Harry.

Kate, Janie, Julie, Susan, Peter, Kyle, and Skyler didn't like him too, and that was everybody. They put their hands on their noses and screamed "Harry Stinkypoo!" when he sat with them. Harry felt very sad when they did that. So he didn't go to play with them. He liked playing with the trucks by himself.

Cousin had a lot of trucks in his bedroom. He didn't like them. He liked watching the telly.

So Harry had a good idea. _He_ could play with Cousin's trucks!

Aunt didn't like that idea. She said it was a very very very very _bad_ idea. And Aunt put Harry in The Dark.

Harry played with Billy and Betty, but he didn't really want to. He wanted to play with _trucks_, not socks!

* * *

It snowed!

It was very cold outside!

It was winter!

Cousin played outside in the snow. Harry wanted to, but he didn't want to be very cold like the last time it snowed. So he thought maybe he shouldn't ask Aunt again.

One day, Aunt took Cousin and Harry to a toy store. All over there was pictures of a big fat man with a white beard and a red dress. Harry knew that man. Miss Allison showded them pictures of him in school. He meant "Christmas"!

Aunt let Cousin go over to all the toys he wanted, and she bought them for him.

Aunt was Happy today. She buyed all the toys in the store! Harry felt like smiling. But he didn't.

So Harry thought it was a good idea to ask Aunt to buy a truck for him. He found a very good one. It was big and yellow and had a dumper at the front. On the side of the box was a word that started with "T".

Harry knewed his letters very good.

_T_, he thought. _Tuh tuh tuh. T. Tuh. Toy!_

But the word couldn't be 'toy', Harry decided. There was too many letters for the word to be 'toy'. He thought there was a "N" and a "K" too.

It didn't care what the word was. Harry knew it was a truck. It was yellow and shiny and beautiful and he _wanted_ it.

Harry picked the box up careful and carried it to Aunt. She was looking at a big, red ball. Harry squished his nose. He didn't like these balls. Cousin liked to throw them at him, and it hurt when they knocked you down. But he didn't cry when Cousin did that. Crying was for babies.

Aunt didn't look at him, even when Harry pulled on her shirt. Harry frowned. Aunt didn't like when he talked, but maybe it would be all right now? If she was Happy?

"Aunt?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Can we buy dis?"

Aunt looked at the truck. She didn't say anything. Then her eyebrows got angry.

"What do you think you are, a spoiled prince?" she sayd.

Harry was scared.

"I will not buy you anything, not for _this_ Christmas or any other!" she sayd quiet. "Where did it come from?"

Harry had a funny feeling in his tummy. It wasn't a happy funny, though. Happy-funny meant laughing, and he wasn't allowed to laugh.

"_Where _did it come from?"

He pointed at the shelf behind him.

Aunt stood over Harry, put her hands over his wrists – very tightly – and made him put the truck back.

Harry tried to get away, but Aunt wouldn't let go of his wrists.

"Where's Dudley?" she asked in a very Angry voice.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Aunt sighed, let go of one of Harry's wrists but held onto the other one. She went down the aisle, pulling Harry with her. Harry twisted his wrist around trying to get it out of Aunt's hand – her hand _hurt_. She squeezed her hand very very tight, until Harry couldn't turn his hand anymore.

They found Dudley, waited on a line, and then left the store. Aunt didn't let go of Harry's wrist until they were at the car. And then she put the buckle on him tight, so it was like her hand.

Everything outside looked white. The _sky_ was white, even though Miss Allison always sayd it's blue. Harry thought it looked sad. It needed something … yellow …Like the sun …

Or a truck.

* * *

It was Christmas. Harry knew it was the second he woke up in The Dark. He smelled yummy food in the kitchen. But he didn't want to get up. He didn't want to see all the presents Cousin was getting. His tummy hurt.

Uncle woke Harry up that morning instead of Aunt because Aunt was the one cooking. Harry didn't like when Uncle woke him up. Uncle was scary, especially in the morning when his voice was too loud and his face was scratchy.

Uncle gave Harry a shirt, socks, and pants. Harry got dressed and went to the potty. Then Aunt yelled real loud that he should come to the kitchen and eat breakfast, so Harry did. But his tummy still hurt.

After Harry finished his yucky cereal, he thought about telling Aunt or Uncle that his tummy hurt. But that wasn't a good idea. If he sayd something about his tummy, they would put him in The Dark, to make it feel better.

Cousin ran to the living room. Aunt and Uncle went. Harry jumped off his chair and ran too.

All of Cousin's toys were wrapped with pretty paper. Cousin took the paper off the toys, made it into balls, and threw them at Harry. They didn't hurt.

* * *

Harry had a lot of questions. But he didn't think he should ask them to Miss Allison. Like: "Why does Cousin have so many toys?" And: "Why not me?" And: "Why doesn't Aunt and Uncle like me?" And: "How do fish breath in water?"

They were very important questions.

When he thought about _those_ questions, he thought of more questions. That made his head hurt.

It was hard work being four.


End file.
